


You're wearing my clothes

by gingerbreadlove



Series: Before Ever After [3]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Breakfast, F/M, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Kid Fic, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-03-21 14:23:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13742814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gingerbreadlove/pseuds/gingerbreadlove
Summary: Wow I'm super creative with names, I know. I actually have a whole list of cool ones, yet here we are. The two kids are James and Rose. Wow. Basically this is like 30-some weeks after 19 Years Later, and they're just having breakfast. Just some fluff *shrugs*.





	You're wearing my clothes

Fitz was in the kitchen, helping the kids get breakfast, when Jemma walked in. “You're wearing my clothes.” He commented, seeing his grey sweatpants and the navy Shield sweatshirt stretched taut across Jemma’s belly.

“What?” Jemma asked, coming in and opening the fridge to find the food she wanted. 

“Those sweats, they're mine.” Fitz clarified, giving a plate of eggs to Rose, then carrying his and James’s to where his son was sitting, studying his Periodic Table placemat.

“Yes, so is this child. No complaining.” She replied, putting bread in to toast.

“Touché.” Fitz nodded, turning to his son. “James, do I need to flip the placemat over so you will eat, bud?” He asked, causing his son to pick up his plastic fork and begin eating. Leaving his untouched eggs at the table, Fitz got up to put juice in James’s sippy cup. “Rose, what do you want to drink?” He asked, pouring steaming water into his mug, adding a tea bag, then moving to the fridge. His hand rested on the fridge door as he waited for Rose to respond. 

“Rose, put down the book for a second, your father is talking to you.” Her mom said, sounding very much as if she was in a mood this morning.

Rose snapped her book shut. “Sorry, mum.” She looked up at her dad, who repeated the question. “Milk, please.” She requested, then found her page and resumed reading.

Fitz poured the milk for his daughter, and brought it over to her. 

“Thank y _ ou _ .” She smiled, glancing up from her book and letting the word lilt up happily at the last second. Fitz’s lips turned up at this, for getting his daughter to look up from her book was as good as a miracle.

He sat down at his spot, scooping up a bite of eggs. Jemma groaned, setting down the peanut butter jar with a hard thump.

Fitz turned around to see what was wrong. “What's up, Jem?” He was aware that she was upset, and he kept his voice low and gentle.

“I…” She sighed heavily, taking a deep breath. “I can't get the jar open.” Her voice was tense and frustrated. 

He got up, and reached for the jar, wrenching it hard to get it to open. He handed it back to Jemma, who had tears burning in her eyes. “Hey now…” He said, wrapping an arm around the back of her head and smoothing his hand down her back. Her face rested onto his shoulder, her eyes wetting his shirt. Even pregnant, Jemma usually wasn't this quick to emotional outbursts like this, but Fitz held her close, her round stomach pressing against him. 

“I'm sorry.” She mumbled an apology, taking her face from his shoulder and wiping her tears with her fingers. 

Fitz whispered a “Shhhh…” and kissed her cheek. She took a deep breath and calmed down, letting him comfort her. “You okay?” He kissed her cheek again as his eyes searched her face with care.

She nodded. “I don't know...I just...everything,” She shook her head, and Fitz tightened his arm again as she put her face on his shoulder. “I'm okay.” She sniffed after a long moment, and Fitz nodded. 

“How about I make your toast, and you go sit with the kids?” He kissed the top of her forehead. She nodded.

“Okay.” Her voice was soft, and she wiped her eyes again before letting him go and moving for the table. 

“What do you want on it?” He asked, and she gave half a moment’s thought before chuckling.

“Peanut butter, bananas…” Jemma answered, sighing, “cheese…?” 

Fitz cringed. He knew pregnancy cravings were weird, but, really? “I refuse to offend toast like that, but  _ for you _ , I will slice some cheese to put on the side.” He replied, slicing up a banana to put on the bread.

Jemma scoffed playfully, lowering herself into the chair beside Rose. “Like you haven’t eaten worse combinations.” She didn’t have to specify for him to know she was talking about his ham and Pop-tart sandwiches from the Academy. 

“Those were actually good. There’s such a thing as sweet ham.” He combatted, defending his precious creation. “I have to draw the line s’mewhere.” He winked, spreading the smooth peanut butter over a warm piece of toast. 

Jemma leaned in to kiss her daughter’s cheek and catch a peek of the book she was reading. “And that line is drawn at cheese on toast?” She hummed, narrowing her eyes, then turned her focus from their playful banter to her daughter. “Good book?” She asked, and her daughter glanced up with a smile and nod. 

“Mhmm.”

Jemma smoothed her bedhead. Rose shrugged away from her mum’s hand as her fingers caught in a small knot. Frowning, Jemma gently pulled the girl back to her. “Hold still, please.” She directed, voice soft but firm. Rose reluctantly made herself into a statue, biting her lip and still trying to focus on her book. 

Fitz walked over with Jemma’s toast, sliced cheese on the side as he had promised. 

With the food in front of her, Jemma let Rose go, to the girl’s relief, and promptly put the cheese on her toast. Fitz made a face, but his hand trailed on her shoulders before he stepped to his own seat. 

“I have a loose tooth, Da’.” James informed him with no prompting. His dad leaned over skeptically, and Jemma narrowed her eyes. 

“Is that so?” He asked, to which James nodded emphatically. “Which one?”

James smiled so that all his little teeth showed, and pointed to his front one. Fitz moved his hand to the little boy’s face, using his index finger to feel if the tooth moved. It didn’t. Jemma watched him, curious to know.

Fitz shook his head at Jemma, then looked back at James, who was focused on forcing the tooth to wiggle. “I think you’ve got a bit more to wait, bud.” He said, ruffling his son’s fine hair.

James slouched in his seat, huffing. “Bu’ I feel it wiggling.” He insisted. 

Fitz twisted his lips, never wanting to be the reason for his son’s disappointment. “I didn’t say it wasn’t loose.” He told James, to which Jemma narrowed her eyes further. “But I couldn’t feel it, so, even if you can, it’ll be a while til it’s ready to come out.” James kept his hand in his mouth, a finger sliding back and forth over his firmly attached tooth. Jemma rolled her eyes at Fitz. James would just be more disappointed later.

“But Rose…” James began, lowering his hand from his mouth to pick at the corner of his placemat. 

“Rose is older, Jamie.” His mom explained with a tired look. 

James slouched further in his chair, and there was silence for a moment, in which time Fitz took a deep breath, eyes scolding James for slouching. James sat up.

“Are you done with your breakfast?” He asked his son, rubbing a hand over his own scratchy cheek.

James nodded, scooting to the edge of his seat to get down.

“Okay, then you can be excused.” Fitz told him, and Jemma nodded in confirmation. “But take your juice with you, please.” He added before the boy could run off. 

James bobbed his head. “Okie.” He took a hold of the cup handle, slid from his seat, and proceeded to hurry off down the hall at his fastest little walk.

Rose seemed perfectly content with her position at the table, leaned into her mum’s side, nose in her book. Fitz finished the last bit of eggs on his plate, gazed over at Jemma and Rose for a moment with a small smile, and stood up. He gathered his children’s plates and carried them into the kitchen. Jemma was still eating. 

“I suppose we aren’t going to the zoo today?” He asked, glancing at Jemma from the sink. She took a deep breath, looking down at her/his sweats, then back to her husband. 

“Maybe later…” She answered, finishing off her second piece of toast. “Or if you wanted to take the kids by yourself…” She suggested, knowing he was looking forward to their trip to the zoo.

He scrunched his nose, frowning and shaking his head, drying his hands off with a towel on his way back to the table. “No, we’ve got plenty we can do here.” He said, kissing her head, “You shouldn’t push it.” His hand brushed her stomach and she turned her chin up to look at him.

He bowed his head to hers and let his lips meet hers for a moment. She smiled at him sweetly.

“I’m done with my plate.” Her voice was warm and flirtatious, making Fitz chuckle. 

“Jemma Simmons, you say the sweetest things.” He took her plate, kissing her again.


End file.
